


Sick, Sad World

by writerfromzero



Category: Daria (Cartoon), Rick and Morty
Genre: Crossover, F/M, Gen, Other, Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-27
Updated: 2018-02-27
Packaged: 2019-03-24 20:58:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,409
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13819329
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/writerfromzero/pseuds/writerfromzero
Summary: Rick demands assistance managing yet another war concerning aliens. Morty is tired and annoyed, but hardly surprised. That changes, however, when the duo end up somewhere entirely unexpected – even for Rick.The crossover I didn't know I needed until I did. Multi-chapter. Comments / constructive criticism appreciated. La la la la la.





	Sick, Sad World

About to take the math books from his locker for his next class, Morty was less than surprised to suddenly see his grandfather standing in the school hallway, boasting his usual drunken state, ranting and raving, hardly ever coming to a halt.

“Co-come on Morty, we gotta – aliens, w-we gotta fight 'em, big 'n' angry, I-if th-if this civil war gets out of hand, i-it'll only be a matter of time before entire planets become misaligned. W-we gotta hurry,” he stated, carelessly pulling on his grandson's sleeve to drag him along.

“Why do we have to bother if it's a civil war? It's not in our dimension, so let them sort it out. There's a saying, you know, Rick, it says to let sleeping dogs lie,” Morty returned with a tired annoyance in his voice, attempting again to retrieve his books.

“Did-didn't you hear what I just said?! First planets, then universes, we-we could be looking at a whole...a whole cosmic outbreak of violence here! I-i-it's a triple...tr...trickle...trickle down...trickles and ripples! It'll all be downhill from here! And if there are any dogs, I guarantee they won't be sleeping. We never did hear from your Ruffles again. Who-who knows what he got up to on that planet of supposedly intelligent dogs. You give a dog a bone, next thing you know, they-they...sicc a bunch of aliens on you to get the arm that fed them, and more if they can. Now come on!”

With every morsel of his being, Morty, on that particular day, felt especially averse to any kind of dimension-hopping-alien-fighting adventures, and he was growing equally, if not more tired of his relative's propensity to pitch them to him so eagerly and offhandedly.

“If it's that important, couldn't you just find a world where this civil war never happened? Far, far away?”, he asked, the lack of enthusiasm in his voice subtly hinting Morty wished he, too, were far, far away from the noise droning in his ears.

“Wh-what are you, Morty, an idiot? Things don't stop existing just because they're far away. If that was the case, y-you realize we'd be just an indefinite Egyptian vacation away from your mother not suffocating in a perspectiveless marriage? Besides, d-do you have any idea what i-it took me to find _this_ dimension? Remember what we-what we had to do to get here so you could be a snotty ungrateful little asshole? I'd rather not repeat any of that, if you don't mind.”

“Whatever, Rick. I gotta stay in school. Y-y-you know how much school I've missed because of this?”

“Existence is fleeting, time and space are highly questionable concepts, M-Morty, I thought you'd know that by now.”

With obvious disdain, Rick glanced at the math books Morty now held pressed against his chest.

“No one's going to c-call in a national search because you didn't show up for multiplication tables for one day or whatever.”

Angry enough to nearly throw the books to the ground, Morty found himself yelling in the school hallway, bitterly trying to ignore the fact that the lack of gazes garnered by this disruptive activity only seemed to underline his grandfather's words – that no one would care enough to notice if he were gone.

“Exactly, time and space are meaningless, we'll all die, nothing matters anyway, so why can't you let me have this one day?!?! One day, huh, just one day of going to school like a normal person?! I have a Math test coming up next week! And I think I'm really getting somewhere with Jessica…!”

“You're r-real sweethearts, yeah, straight off a Hallmark card. I can barely contain myself. Now haul ass, you little turd, we've got a genocide to prevent here.”

As he was dragged forcibly from each intent with which he'd woken in the morning, and with the echo of Rick's dismissive words still ringing in his ears, Morty soon became consumed by the green swirl of a dimensional portal, the essence of which, to him, seemed to be some uncanny find between slime and electricity; its blinding neon colors always painful to take in for human eyes. Before he had time to object, or even take in the form of the grandfather so casually stood next to him, Morty found himself in another world.

As unexpected as the whole thing had been, from the words of his science driven relative, the boy had expected a perversely dangerous situation, one in which they might be assailed even a fraction of a second before their arrival to this unknown place wrecked by the erruption of a civil war. With this in mind, the first steps outside the portal were taken with excessive caution.

Instead, what greeted them seemed to be...an ordinary town.

Taken aback by this complete incongruency, Morty's next words were uttered in surprise and confusion.

“Where're the aliens…?”

Unwilling to admit to the change of reality as his vary gaze wandered across the surroundings and his aged hand clutched the portal gun as the only point of reference, Rick's voice remained casual, as if they had landed exactly where they should.

“Y-you gotta be careful, Morty. They're r-r-r...extremely sneaky, could just jump out at you from-from a-a-any direction. This is the dimension all the other dimensions got their jump scares from.”

Even of that, Rick wasn't certain. The place they had intended to go, the universe upon which the fate of all others might now be dependent...it did not look like this.

As both were left to guard their thoughts, in his peripheral vision, Morty eventually saw the shape of a girl passing by, gradually morphing into a distant haze, almost disappearing, when finally the boy snapped out of his puzzled state.

“H-hey!”

The passing haze became more clearly defined then, and as it did, Morty quickly realized there was not one shape, but two. A girl wearing round glasses, a heavy set green fleece jacket, a pleated black skirt that Morty thought would feel like velvet (were he ever in the priviledged position of touching distance...) and combat boots, decidedly just a tad too large for the feet they covered.

Some ways behind that shape was a blotch of light pink, her long ginger hair casually styled and her conventionally attractive silhouette trapped in the confines of a pair of jeans. While much less interesting to Morty, this was the shape in the distance that wore an expression of contemptment and disgust.

In undeniably stark contrast, the vision in green, though having turned to face both arrivals, wore an expression that remained unreadable in its entirety. An expression that almost wasn't there.

“C-c-could you tell us where we are? We...We're just passing through and we...got kind of lost,” one of the travelers explained, rather awkward in his wording, but accurate in the end.

The response that came would surely be percieved as unnerving by those that heard it, as it was delivered without the slightest hint of inflection, emotion, or any other concept habitually associated with the existence of man.

“Worry not, ye weary wanderers. Your suffering has ended. You may now lay down and die peacefully on the soil of corporate America, infused with exhaust fumes and the ideal of patriotism, which we have built upon the bones of the innocent natives we righteously murdered four score and seven years ago. Welcome to Lawndale. Please refer to your left for your complementary foil hats and gift baggies.”

Rick had now directed his gaze of contemptment at the sarcastic speaker, and the pink bubble in the background seemed to inwardly struggle with the division of her own disdain as she continued to be repulsed by the old man, but embarrassed by the words of her older sister. Really, it felt as if the sole purpose of every spoken word was to place a shadow of humiliation over her otherwise sparkling existence. It was unbearable not to be an only child.

Caught in a row of simoultaneous occurrence, Morty tried to make sense of the information he had been fed, choosing to disregard all else. Though the town name was one he hadn't heard before, what the girl before them seemed to be saying is that they had, in fact, never left the universe they considered home.

“Lawndale...United States of America…?” Morty asked in hesitation, attempting to confirm.

“One land of the free to rule them all,” quipped Daria Morgendorffer, thinking no more of the scene before her.

Turning on her heel to resume the trajectory on which she had been placed by a tug of war between inertia and legal obligation, she was promptly stopped by that same voice, high and somehow uncertain.

“We…!”

Whatever he had to say, Morty was rather certain the girl had no singular reason in any discernible universe to care.

But, despite the lack of a discernible reason, the girl stood in place and listened.

“Th-there's a – a s-show and tell at school and...and my grandpa's a scientist! I-it's kind of an all day thing, so...so we don't have classes and I won't have to go to school for a few hours still…! Would you – would you show me around…? I'm kind of...new here...”

As the boy's words ended, Daria watched as Quinn surpassed her and disappeared quickly into the distance, soon to be joined by the threefold entourage marked with a “J”. Once again, her sister's world became filled with its usual noise, and Daria was transformed into an only child. At the thought, Daria made another turn, once more facing the pair of new faces.

 

“I'm kind of late for school,” she marked. A simple fact, with no hint of accusation.

“R-right…! I wouldn't want to keep you from school or anything…!”

But for some reason, caught in a spontaneous stand-off with the stranger whose face was framed by glasses and auburn hair, Morty couldn't stop himself from talking.

“But...Wanna meet me after…? I could, like, you know...we could meet there...I mean - in front of your school…!”

For a moment, the girl looked away awkwardly, as if witnessing the idea flash her by on some deserted road. Wordlessly observing the exchange at his grandson's side, Rick felt a snide sense of superiority over her ungainly reaction to something so minor.

“Um...sure.”

Morty was elated and tried to hide it. Rick was displeased and did not.

“Wh...wh…,” Not knowing how or why, it had already become so difficult to get out the words. Maybe this _was_ an alien planet. Daria waited patiently for him to finish.

“Where do you go to school…?”, Morty finally managed, and was pleased at that.

“It's not far from here if you just keep walking this road. I really have to go now, though.” she said, making a vague gesture with her hand that both the gazes of the boy and the old man followed. Then, shortly, the alien apparition announced she must depart.

“S-sure, yeah!” ,the boy easily surrendered, looking somewhat stupidly at the distancing fleece jacket. Rather quickly, each of his reactions had become slightly delayed.

“Oh, w-wait! Just one thing! What's your name?”

The continuous stopping and starting of the strange boy's uncertain voice caused Daria to jolt inwardly this time, and, for the first time, feel slightly annoyed by the exchange. Was someone actually trying to prevent her from getting to school? Did she find herself entrapped in the grotesque ambush that was a Candid Camera episode? Would her achievements and identity now forever be wrapped up in this fleeting, unwanted thrust of idiotic fame? Even so, she listened. And then gave her name.

“I'm Daria. Daria Morgendorffer.”

“C-cool – Daria! I'm Morty! I'll – see you later then! Three...half past three or something, maybe...?”

Wordless, the girl took in the name. Continuing on her path, she neither confirmed nor denied the plan they had formed. She had a feeling she'd forget in a few hours, and so would he.

And so, the scientist and Morty observed as the green entity was gradually transformed to a mere blob once more. Eventually joining with its pinkish ginger kin, it then vanished like a comet on the early morn horizon.

Suddenly, being pulled from school didn't seem so bad. But the emotion was quickly stifled as Rick's raspy voice blared further accusations into Morty Smith's ear.

“W-what the fuck are you-are you doing, M-Morty? We're supposed to be saving the planet – all planets – not setting up a blind date for you and the queen of the-the q-queen of hipsters!”

There it was again, the stagnation and annoyance, grating away at the underbelly of Morty's soul.

“Get real, Rick! There aren't any aliens here! You pulled me out of school to go sightseeing who knows where, and now it's my fault? If you're going to ruin my life, I'd appreciate it if you at least got the Math right! You know, the class I can't take now, that I have a test in next week? - “

“ - That you have no need to take because we manipulated your teachers' subconscious to give you A's…”

In this way, an appendage was added to Morty's complaint, said in his exact tone; mocking.

“Whatever, Rick!”

It felt like he had said that a dozen times today. It wasn't even 10 A.M.

“I've had enough of this. We're already here, this is a thing we're living now, we might as well stay a while. I'm gonna go find a library and try to find out what state we're in…,”

Inside, Rick Sanchez could not believe he'd have miscalculated badly enough to simply go cross-country traveling. That, or a significant glitch must have appeared in the workings of the portal gun, resulting in this variation of the Replacement Dimension. A glitch that could affect every future adventure – or hinder them for good.

Outside, Rick Sanchez would not admit to either possibility. Another diversion came, cutting into the words of his sidekick. Saving all conceivable worlds was no longer on the scientist's mind.

“Libraries are for the slow kids, Morty. Slow kids and historians. You're not smart enough to become one, and I'm not lame enough to let you live as the other. You know what slow kids grow up to be, Morty? They grow up to be Jerrys. Can't have that happen. I have at least-at least three devices in my pocket that can analyze the geological, geographical, sociological and infrastructural layouts of any location anywhere ever, in all of time.”

Begrudgingly, Morty agreed to the quicker and easier solution. Watching Rick produce yet another thingamajig from whereever on his person, Morty did not absorb the fact of never once seeing, only hearing the results.

Various facts were spewed, most of which barely took on residence in Morty's head. The end result, however, seemed to be equal to what the cynical girl in green had said.

“Lawndale, Maryland, USA,” With all the dryness of a seasoned tour-guide, Rick delivered this final verdict, and the anger in Morty's belly boiled again.

“M-Maryland?! You realize that's like a two day car-trip, right?! You _literally_ brought me sightseeing, oh my god! I'm missing my chance with Jessica for _this_? Why do I even listen to you, ever, about anything?! You have a device that can figure that out, huh?!”

Hours seemed to pass as they argued before splitting to loiter aimlessly around the town.

 

                                                                                                                       ***

Classes were out at half past 3, and driven by yet more inertia, Daria found herself walking outside the building, to wait in front of the school. She hadn't forgotten, and that was strange.

Finally, once seeing the boy run towards her, waving with a breathless smile (further disproving her thesis), she noticed for the first time how frail and skinny he seemed, an effect somehow compounded by the physical effort he made. Observing such fact, Daria hoped he didn't have asthma.

She had no idea where this would go.

Coming to a halt next to her, Morty had his hands on his knees as he caught his breath.

“H-h-hi! Sorry I'm late! I – I got sidetracked!”

“It's fine,” the Morgendorffer first-born answered, not knowing what to say.

A queen of anything, but not social interaction.

While they talked, Jane walked out of the school, her blue eyes halting on two figures. One familiar, the other – not. Some guy named Morty, as Daria had mentioned during lunch. Jane'd hear of it later, she supposed.

He looked young, she thought.

 

Deprived of her usual companion, Jane walked home alone.

 

                                                                                                                       ***

 

Becoming a part of the fluidum that poured out of the academic institution like stressed cattle from their stalls following a day at the rodeo, side by side, Daria and Morty walked the path leading away from school. Here, no one knew who she was, or cared to find out. In this way, she was able to draw some comfort from knowing no one'd bother to ask about the guy walking beside her. Jane had already wandered off, she noticed – and then heard Morty talking in her direction.

A mindless, vague compliment was how he had decided to start out.

“It's a beautiful school,” he said, smiling as he looked more at the girl's profile than the subject matter of his words.

  
“Thanks. One of my most glorious moments of creation, branded forever in my memory by the rogue architect who stole my heart, then my blueprints. It has made the obligation of daily return to this building unbearably bitter, forever tainting my once idealized view of men and architectural design.”

For how much Daria would forever be identified as nothing but a brain, she really couldn't figure out what the appearance of the building had to do with her – and so, the dryly ironic response had been an automatic one.

But, from the silence that awkwardly followed, she sensed her comment had been as pointless as his own. In her mind, Daria could recall the demanding voice of her mother, embarking on another lecture about the importance of making friends.

 

_Daria, you don't_ _**have** _ _to speak out of turn! It's_ _**unnecessary**_ _!_

_Just listen and make smalltalk! It makes people feel_ _**nice**_ _!_

 

Right. Because all her life, her only goal had been to be nice, and now that she had been relieved of her duty to make utterly unnecessary comments, her life could truly, finally obtain meaning.

But this boy beside her had nothing to do with any of that.

“It's Morty, right? You said something about a scientist?”

From the way his expression cleared, her latest acquaintance seemed to have quickly recovered from the attack of the dragon called Silence, slain to the ground by Daria's words. As the road continued, they trampled over the metaphoric corpse until nothing was left.

“Yeah, that's my grandpa!”

“How did the show and tell go?”

“What?” then came in turn, a sign of being totally discombobulated by her words.

If one's educational progress were ever to become proportionally dependent on one's conversational skills, Daria figured she'd be held back forever. At least her family wasn't here to witness the inexcusable shame.

“The show and tell at your school, with your grandpa. I mean, you were pretty good about the telling part.”

Indeed, Daria couldn't recall – at least not in good faith – the last time a stranger on the street had addressed her so casually. That is, unless they were half-naked and prophesying the arrival of the end times.

“Don't tell me you failed the showing part because you made him disappear.”

Like the birth of a nebula, all that had evaded him a second before came back in a flash. This morning, when he had landed in this town and met Daria on the street, he had made up a story about this event at school. The school he only recently came to, because he's new. And now she had made a joke alluding to the fact that unlike the moment they met, Rick was no longer here.  
A burst of laughter escaped Morty. Nervous, but completely sincere. He thought she was funny.

She was surprised.

“Y-y-yeah, that!!!” he said, finally coming down from the short high of his laughter.

“It went really well! I got an A!”,he told her, creating another lie.

In fact, Morty couldn't recall – at least not in good faith – the last time his efforts rewarded him with that grade.

**Author's Note:**

> My first time dabbling with either fandom. Interested to see if there's continued demand for this crossover. I have a few ideas I'm throwing around in my head. I sincerely hope you enjoy.
> 
> "Daria" is owned by Glenn Eichler and Susie Lewis, "Rick and Morty" is owned by Dan Harmon and Justin Roiland. I own only the rights to my ideas of mixing them together.


End file.
